


Flabbergasties

by cheeky_geek_m0nkey



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheeky_geek_m0nkey/pseuds/cheeky_geek_m0nkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe's got a tendency to use euphemisms, and it puts ideas into Beca's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was her favorite time of the night. In the moments right before it became too late to share a bed, Chloe would turn off the lamp, putting whatever textbook she was reading on the floor to flip over and face Beca. Then, lying there, she would put a hesitant hand on the other girl’s hip, squeezing it lightly. 

The interaction lasted a total of two minutes, if that, and then Chloe would slip out of the bed, pulling the covers up on Beca. “Get some sleep,” she would say, “Insomniacs make  _terrible_ best friends.” To which Beca would respond with a snort and some semi-sarcastic commentary on the struggles of being so deeply neurotypical. 

Only tonight when Chloe put her hand on Beca’s hip, Beca put away her computer and snuggled down into the pillow, meeting Chloe’s eyes and smiling softly. She reached out slowly, her hand lingering in the space between them for just a little too long, to curl a red hair around her index finger. “Chloe,” she said quietly, biting her lip and looking at her friend. “What’s your favorite thing about me?” 

“Oh,” Chloe smiled, wiggling her head, “I didn’t know we were on a dock here, but you seem to be  _real_ good at fishing for compliments.” Beca slapped her lightly on the arm, letting her hand rest there to soften the blow. The touch was enough to still her, and Chloe met her stare once more. “Okayyyy,” she said slowly, “Well. I like your eyes. And your music. And the way your voice is when you think no one can hear you singing.”

“Stalker,” Beca mumbled under her breath, earning a prompt but equal slap from Chloe. 

“And I like that when you yell, your voice goes up so many octaves that only dogs can hear it,” Chloe added, getting a scowl from Beca. It was like a victory to her, so she bit her lip, trying to think of more. 

It’s not that it was hard, necessarily, to think of all of her favorite things about Beca Mitchell. Putting them into words, though - and words that were…friendship-appropriate, to say the least - was the challenge. 

“And,  _of course,_ I like your flabbergasties,” Chloe said, eyes darting down briefly to Beca’s chest and pointedly back at her face again. Beca raised her eyebrows, pulling her head back to inspect the redhead. 

“My…” she said, turning her head slightly to the side, “My…what?” 

“Flabbergasties,” Chloe chirped, turning so that she was on her back. There were glow stars on Beca’s ceiling - ones she’d stuck there at the beginning of the school year - and she counted them as she watched Beca stare at her in confusion. 

“Yeah, okay, are you going to tell me what the fuck that means?” Beca asked, turning to face the ceiling with a huff as well. Chloe smiled again, loving that she could predict Beca’s movements through their conversation but still never felt like they were following a preconceived script. 

“Sure,” she sighed, gearing up for her story. “But it involves exposition.” 

“Then….exposite away.” 

“Beautiful,” Chloe said, propping her head on her arm for a pillow. “’Twas the summer of my tenth year, and my parents decided the family was old enough to ‘appreciate the culture’ of some European culture.” 

“Naturally,” Beca quipped, and Chloe laughed. 

“They wanted a second honeymoon and didn’t want to pay a nanny,” Chloe explained, which made Beca chuckle and nod. “Anyway, being who they are, we somehow ended up ‘accidentally’ going to a topless beach.” 

“Your story arches are wildly predictable,” Beca commented, which earned a mockingly frustrated punch in the shoulder from Chloe. 

“No more interruptions, Goof,” she said, continuing, “Well, anyway, apparently ten year old me was much less… _chill_ …than present-day me is.” 

“I wouldn’t exactly describe you as ch–Okay. Sorry. Continue.” 

“Thank you,” Chloe said, the smile on her face rising, “So, yeah, as the story goes, I was appropriately astonished by all the…bosoms. The…bare bosoms. Because…well…it was a _beach_ full of them.” 

“Of course,” Beca nodded, “The natural reaction for a ten year old girl at a topless beach is glee.” 

“For some,” Chloe hummed. “For me, I guess. So, yeah, my parents had said something about how quote unquote ‘flabbergasted’ I was. Apparently my reaction face was quite amusing.” 

“I’ll bet.” Chloe sighed contentedly, grinning at the pressure of Beca’s eyes against her cheek. The other girl had turned again, using her hands as pillows as she watched Chloe tell the story. 

“Not knowing what the heck that word meant, I assumed it was some euphemism or something. So when I asked my mom a few months later when I would get ‘flabbergasties’, the term just kinda stuck.” 

When she finished, she hazarded a glance at Beca, only slightly uncomfortable by the silence that stretched between them. The other girl was staring at her with some mix of shock and absolute joy, the look spreading down to her mouth, which was opened wide but curving up around the edges. Chloe’s smile spread in response, and she turned so that the girls were nose to nose. 

“Oh,” Beca started, holding a hand up to her lips. Chloe thought she could predict the exact tone with which Beca would say the next words - a slight raise in pitch each time. “My. God.” 

“Yep,” Chloe said, popping the ‘p’. 

“Okay, let me first say thank you for sharing this heavenly story with me,” Beca said, her grin impossibly wide, “Because I am forever changed for the better, and you will never ever hear the end of the that.” 

“I suspected as much,” Chloe said with a shrug, not thinking when she put a hand back on Beca’s hip. 

“And second,” Beca started again, “You are the weirdest effin’ person I know.” 

Chloe smiled wider, “I know. But you love me.” 

Beca hummed, her eyes skirting upwards for a second as she pursed her lips. “I guess I have to,” she quipped, her eyes returning to Chloe’s as she bit her lip for the suspense of her next line, “You can’t  _not_ love a girl who appreciates your flabbergasties. I mean, I’m not a _caveman_ , Chlo.” 

“I hate you,” Chloe said quickly, reaching under the hem of Beca’s shirt to pinch her lightly, which the other girl squirmed and squeaked to get away. For a second, they were a giggling pile of limbs, and then Beca sobered up, looking down at Chloe from where she was balancing on her elbows. 

“So,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “You really like my flabbergasties?” 

Chloe bit her lip, nodding. “They’re the best thing about you, Babe.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Beca giggled, it was adorable. Not because it was rare - which it was - but because there was something about her giggle that shook her entire body, scrunching up her face and adding a sparkle to her eye. And, okay, she was more than a little drunk, but there was a way that she laughed at Chloe was different than how she laughed at everyone else, like she was aiming it towards her for the ultimate levels of happiness and glee. 

“You’re staring,” Chloe said, grinning at the girl sitting across from her on the floor. They’d just come home from one of the last college parties either of them would attend, and while they’d learned their lesson long ago regarding how much to drink, now was the perfect time to throw that moral down the drain.

It was true, too, that Beca was staring. Because Chloe was wearing her favorite dress - just the right shade of blue to bring out every feature, and tight enough to push everything exactly where it needed to be. Beca had said, time and time again, that it was  _Chloe’s_ dress. As in, _made_ for a miss Chloe Beale and her particular body. But even if she hadn’t said that, her eyes would’ve spoken enough. 

“Am not,” Beca argued, though she made no move to turn away from where she was currently focused - bouncing between Chloe’s eyes and her chest, which was on an especially nice display this particular night. A blush was rising up on her cheeks, and while she wasn’t entirely prepared to address the way her stomach was flopping, she knew that Chloe did look beautiful tonight, and that she wasn’t in the nature of turning away when something interested her. 

“Oh please,” Chloe giggled, holding her hand to her mouth as she leaned forward, “You can take your eyes off of them.” 

Beca blushed more, finally breaking her gaze to laugh. She was giggling, then, that same kind of warm, sparkling giggle that was enough to bubble up in Chloe the courage to lean even more forward, resting her head on Beca’s shoulder as she twisted. 

“Well,” Beca said, holding in her laughter for a second, “You do have  _fabulous_ flabbergasties.” 

Chloe squealed, slapping Beca lightly on the arm. “I told you that in confidence!” she gasped, but the way Beca was pinching her nose, her body shaking, was enough to make Chloe feel like her offense was somehow right. Beca shrugged, still shaking slightly and taking Chloe’s hand without thinking. 

“You shouldn’t trust me,” she said, trying to force her smile into a serious line, “I’m just a pile of bad jokes and bullying.” 

“True,” Chloe breathed in agreement, leaning fully onto Beca so that her back was pressing into Beca’s side, “But you’re hot, so I deal with it.” 

Beca scoffed, letting Chloe’s weight sink into her because the alcohol pouring through her veins made her think that the warmth was something natural. Right. And not at all scary. She hummed contentedly until Chloe started giggling at something. 

“What?” she said, amused even though she wasn’t clued in on the joke. Chloe shook her head, sitting back up. Beca nudged her slightly, curious. “Come on, what?” 

“Nothing,” Chloe said, biting her lip. “I was just wondering…like…” she paused, looking up at Beca through her eyelashes, “What would you call them. If you had to…like…rename them…” 

Beca laughed, letting it bubble from a small giggle into a chuckle until she was wiping the tears from her eyes. Chloe watched it, thinking that she might be drunk but that did not render her incapable of recognizing the beauty that was Beca Mitchell when she let go enough to smile. She would never really be able to forgive herself for not recognizing a moment like that, and she factored that away for a time when she was ready and willing to think of the woman sitting in front of her as astonishingly wonderful. 

“You’ve gotta tell me,” she said, laughing along with the other girl. She placed a hand on Beca’s shoulder, stilling her slightly, “Come on, I told you.” 

“Okay,” Beca breathed, holding the stitch in her side. “I’m, like, really drunk.” 

“I know,” Chloe said slowly, watching the girl, who’s cheeks had turned red and who’s eyes were still hazy from the night’s festivities. 

“Okay,” Beca repeated, still laughing. “So…first thing that came to mind?”

“That’s the question,” Chloe answered, watching Beca with a grin perking at the edges of her lips. 

“Barbara.” 

“Barbara?” 

Beca nodded, biting her lip in seriousness. Then, she broke out into laughter, spreading more than a little spit through the air in the process and leaning forward to hold onto Chloe, who caught her and fell backward. 

“What Barbara?” Chloe said, whispering with Beca’s body pressed over her. The girl was smiling goofily at her, and though the weight of her body on Chloe’s was warm, Chloe recognized the look in her eyes as one that she wouldn’t remember tomorrow, so she sighed, pushing them both back up. Beca shrugged, rocking back and forth slightly. 

“It’s just what I thought,” she said nonchalantly. “I want a drink.” 

She stood up, wandering around the room before eying the Bacardi bottle and letting out a short “Aha” of victory. Chloe watched her take a swig from the bottle before crawling up to her, putting a possessive hold on her leg. Beca squeaked, looking down and laughing at the redhead. 

“You’re right,” she said, patting Chloe’s head, “From this angle, I can’t  _not_ look at your Barbaras, Chloe Beale.” 

Chloe laughed, then, feeling herself shake over Beca’s leg and looking up at the girl - trying not to glance up her dress. “It works,” Chloe nodded seriously, “Barbaras work.” 

Beca nodded, taking another swig, “You bet your ass it works, Ms. Flabbergasties.” 

“No,” Chloe said, about to break out into another fit, “I bet my Barbaras.” 

“True,” Beca said, falling down next to her again. “True.” 

That Sunday afternoon, when they passed by the librarian to find a textbook for Beca’s research paper, they read the nametag and broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Barbara at the Resource desk was not amused. 


	3. Chapter 3

Lilly’s breath smelled like some combination of gummy worms, actual worms, and a touch of unidentifiable Thanksgiving dish, so it took a handful of minutes before Beca turned around again, nose-to-nose with Chloe’s bright smile. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep, creep,” she whispered, suspiciously eying Chloe’s grin. 

“You’re the one who pointed out who close we all are,” Chloe answered, shrugging, “Can’t really sleep with that in mind, can I?” 

Beca looked at her, then sent her eyes scanning around the tent pointedly. Chloe rested her face on her hands. “What’re you doing?” she said. 

“I heard CR lost her rainbows,” Beca said, “But it appears they’ve all suddenly landed on you.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes, pursing her lips. “You know that I’ve only ever been as straight as my natural hair, Beca Mitchell,” she answered, a glint in her eyes. “Or maybe you didn’t, but you probably, you know, assumed.” 

Beca squinted, pushing her face slightly forward. “Are you…” she stopped, putting down the finger that started to point towards Chloe accusatory. “A tent with a gazillion other Bellas isn’t the best place to come out to me, Chloe,” she scowled, which made Chloe chuckle. 

“Chillax,” Chloe said, only encouraging Beca’s eye roll, “I’m only curious, is all. No big announcements here. Or, at least, not yet. You know, I’m a bit hindered by the lack of experimenting.” 

“Yeah,” Beca said shortly, “You mentioned that.” 

“What about you?” Chloe asked, nudging Beca lightly with her nose. “Have you ever….” 

“Experimented?” Beca reeled, pulling back. “What? No. I…What? That’s not….Like…Who would I…I mean…You guys are the only girls I know and…that’s not even….I wouldn’t…” 

Chloe laughed, putting a finger to Beca’s lips. “I was only asking a question, spaz,” she said, though Beca thought she’d gotten closer in the process, because somehow her breath was hot against Beca’s lips. Beca closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. Because, really, the way her brain just short-circuited was something that not only was she not used to, but came completely out of nowhere, and she didn’t particularly want to analyze it at the moment. 

“No,” she said, sighing as Chloe removed the finger from her lip. “I have never…had fun times with the Barbaras.” 

Chloe laughed then, a full-on laugh that pushed a groan from Amy and a few “shhh”s from the Jessica-Ashley side of the tent. When she tried to subdue it, it turned into a whisper. “No flabbergasties for you?” 

“Nah, just these two,” she said, shrugging, which only made Chloe struggle more to contain herself. 

“Your own Flabbergasties and lady cave,” Chloe sighed, jokingly, “Sounds like a great time, Beca.” 

“Gross,” Beca grunted, turning onto her back to avoid the way Chloe was managing to wink with that Beale-ian sparkle in her eye. But Chloe only used the chance to snuggle up to her, an arm wrapped around her midsection even at the awkward angle. Then, because the silence was deafening, Beca opened her mouth again. “Lady cave?” 

She felt Chloe smile against her shoulder. “You got a better term?” 

“No,” Beca grumbled, pulling her hands up to cross her arms, although it didn’t deter Chloe’s nuzzling. “I just figured you’d, like, name it.” 

“What, like ‘The Hunter’?” Chloe laughed, and Beca shifted. 

“For you? Nah. You’d need something more…innocent.” 

“Innocent?” Chloe said, sitting up and holding her weight on her elbows. “I think you know me better than to assume that.” 

Beca, despite herself, grinned. “Not innocent  _exactly_ , just like…” she flailed her hands around. “Something less…predatory. Something….leaning on domestic. Like ‘The Kitten’ or something.” 

“Oh Beca, Beca, Beca,” Chloe tutted, though she was grinning from ear to ear in a way that made Beca’s stomach churned. She couldn’t help it, she turned to face Chloe slightly, extremely conscious of the way Chloe’s arm ghosted over hers. “You should know better.” 

“I mean, you started with flabbergasties and lady cave so…” 

“Yeah,” Chloe sighed, falling back down onto her pillow, “In your defense, the childhood name for it was ‘Lady Jane’.” 

“Lady Jane?” Beca repeated, her mouth open in delighted shock. Chloe looked up at her through her eyelashes, grinning even though she was trying to look embarrassed. “Lady Jane,” Beca repeated, just for good measure, and when she laughed, she stuck the tip of her tongue between her teeth. 

“I was little!” Chloe said, slapping Beca lightly on the shoulder. “And clearly deprived of proper sex education. Let’s all be grateful I ended up halfway normal.” 

“If you call coming onto your best friend in a tent full of sexually confused acapella singers ‘normal’, then I’ve got news for you that’s  _more_ shocking than the medical name for Lady Jane,” Beca quipped, earning another slap from Chloe. 

“I was  _not_ coming onto you,” Chloe fought back, though there was rare blush spreading over her cheeks. “I was simply  _sharing_ a thing I was  _thinking_ about, which, now, okay, I know not to do with you.” 

“Hey,” Beca said, holding her hand up seriously, “Share away. Just, like, maybe when our lips aren’t inches apart. I don’t want your Lady Jane to get all up in arms.” 

“Up in arms? Really, Becs?” 

Beca groaned, sitting up with her elbow propped, “ _So_ not what I meant, dirty bird,” she scowled, hating the way Chloe’s chuckle allowed an inch of a smile to creep across her face. 

“You’re the one focused on the proximity of our lips,” Chloe argued, biting her lip in the way that she always did, though Beca felt like she was just noticing it for the first time. It made her want to flip around, back towards Chloe, for her own safety. 

Which, wow, that was a new thought. Needing to keep herself safe from…things. Things that were made of mostly of herself and the redhead giggling at her. 

And a thought, she determined, that would have to be pushed as far away as possible, at least for the time being. So she listened to her survival instincts, flipping over even though Chloe’s hand was still around her waist. 

“You’re the worst,” she grumbled, which earned her a squeeze in the abdomen. 

“Just speaking the truth, Beca Mitchell of the Untouched Flabbergasties,” she hummed, “Just speaking the truth.” 

“They’re not un–” Beca cut herself off, shaking her head, “Whatever. Good night.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Beca didn’t know what to do. Because it was silly - really, beyond ridiculous - and she hated herself for the fact that this utterly nonsensical joke between the two of them had sparked something  _very_ odd within her. 

Something she can’t say she wasn’t expecting, nor could she say she hadn’t felt before…but, at the very least, something she wasn’t entirely prepared to  _want_ to deal with. 

Leave it up to Chloe Beale to make her stomach flip into itself because of ridiculous euphemisms said with winks and adorably innocent childhood stories. 

Leave it up to Chloe Beale to give her this on sliver of a gateway into something dangerous, and let Beca fall head first into something she realized she was tumbling down for years now. 

“What’re you thinking, Smalls?” Chloe asked, shooting a look at Beca from the end of the tent. She was packing up her sleeping bag, and the other Bellas were slowly filing out of the camping space towards Aubrey, who was barking orders. Beca blinked, looking side to side before aiming her glance back at Chloe and trying not to blush. 

“Just, like, ah,” she scratched her head, “Worlds. And the routine and shit.” 

“S’gonna be a good one,” Chloe said confidently, “Even if it doesn’t seem like it yet. We’ll get there.” 

Beca nodded resolutely, trying to rein herself in when Chloe turned only slightly to the side to take off her sleeping top. It took everything in her power not to openly gape at the curve of Chloe’s back and the two small dimples that rested just above her hipbone. Let alone the fact that when she turned just slightly, Beca was able to see an outline and…

“Hey!” Chloe said, throwing her pajama top at Beca. “No peeking, perv.” 

“I wasn’t –” Beca started defensively, feeling that blush peek out, before she looked down at the sleeping shirt and took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said, this time letting confidence rise up in her voice. “Can’t help but stare at the flabbergasties, yo.” 

Chloe, donning a sports bra now, just turned straight to Beca and grinned. She leaned forward to pick something up out of her bag - a shirt, hopefully, Beca thought - and the smile on her face was  _almost_ predatory. 

Which, okay,  _no_ , that’s not what it was. No, Beca. Totally just a friendly smile in classic Chloe fashion. Totally. Obvs. 

“You’re cool,” Chloe said, her smile perking up at the side as she shook her head slightly. Beca scowled. “But I don’t blame you. The goods are the goods, and we’ve learned you’re a fan.” 

“Okay, if last night revealed anything it’s that  _you’re_ a fan,” Beca said defensively, though she was started to feel her blush creep  _down_ her neck. What was  _that_? “Interested in some Lady Jane.” 

“Well, we don’t know that yet,” Chloe said, shrugging. She was putting her tank top on impossibly slowly, turning to Beca with her hair ruffled by the time she was done. And, Beca thought, she absolutely had to know what she was doing. 

Even if Beca didn’t even know what she was doing, really. 

“Right,” Beca said, eyebrows raised. “Good luck with that.” 

“Hey, Becs?” she said. She’d let herself sprawl out on the floor, despite Aubrey demanding all girls go to the lake “as soon as their chicken legs deemed possible”. 

“Hmm?” 

“Have you really never…” Chloe started, twirling a hair around her finger. “Never thought about… ‘The Lady Jane’, so to speak…” 

“Chloe, I can’t have a serious conversation with you if you’re using euphemisms,” Beca said, but Chloe smiled, her nervousness gone for a second. 

“You want me to say vagina? Because you and I both know that that would make you  _ten_ times more uncomfortable.”

Beca winced, still blushing but trying to cover it up with a very honest grimace that made Chloe laugh. “That’s what I thought,” she said, but Beca butted in. 

“We could try…something…not terrible. Like…” she paused, stretching her legs out for a second. 

“Lady garden?” Chloe tried, which made Beca almost retch. “Okay, so no to that.” 

“Nothing with ‘lady’, please,” Beca said, leaning back on her elbows. 

“God’s nook and cranny?” Chloe tried, laughing when Beca groaned with disapproval. “I’m trying here, Becs!” 

“Ugh, no,” Beca said, “No nook and cranny, no chumbucket, no minge or Busch gardens or…”

“Busch gardens! Beca Mitchell, you’re a natural…”

“No,” Beca said, holding her hand up. “Let’s stay vague.  _Please._ I’m actually, literally, begging you.” 

“Kinky,” Chloe said, an eyebrow raised. Her lips were pursed, and that combined with her statement made Beca actively work not to turn as red as a tomato. When and why she was sweating, she wasn’t really sure. 

It was a hot morning, in her defense. Yeah. 

“Okay,” Chloe tried again, “So, I guess….Like, I just wanna know…If you’ve ever thought about that. With…a girl.” 

“Thought about?” Beca asked, her voice trailing off before she looked at the face Chloe was pulling and she opened her mouth. “Oh! Oh. Ohhh. Um.”

“I mean, you don’t have to say,” Chloe said quickly, shifting to start to stand up. “It was really…weird of me to ask anyway. I just…” 

“No, right, when you share a shower with someone, you get the privilege of knowing their preferences at least,” Beca said quickly, letting out a quick laugh. She wasn’t sure when the air had gotten so heavy between the two of them - so laced with some kind of tension and discomfort - but she almost wanted to unzip the opening of the tent to let some kind of fresh air in. Like that would help. 

“Right,” Chloe said, her voice edging on a nervousness Beca wasn’t familiar with. “But uh–”

“I don’t,” Beca started to say at the same time, hearing Chloe’s voice and stopping to look up at her. They both laughed at the awkwardness, and then Beca coughed, trying again. “I don’t know, actually.” 

The answer surprised even her. She was preparing herself for a no, one that was with scrunched eyebrows and suspicious eyes as if to say, “Why the hell are you asking me that??” So when the honest answer was revealed, Beca hadn’t even realized that she wasn’t aware of that level of uncertainty until that exact moment. 

They were quiet for a moment, nodding, before Chloe seemed to realize where she was. “That’s, like, totally okay,” she said quickly, noticing the slight panic in Beca’s eyes. “And stuff. You don’t have to know.” 

Uncomfortably, Beca nodded, and they sat there again, silent but for the sound of Aubrey breaking through the campgrounds to look for them. In the space between when the blonde stormed through the door, Beca sighed, letting out a weak smile. 

“I think I like flabbergasties at least, though,” she said, trying. Chloe laughed at that, and Beca was grateful for the twinge of normalcy still in it. “I mean, those things are fun. And cool. And stuff.” 

“Totes,” Chloe said, nodding. “Thank God for Barbaras.” 

“Yeah. That horny motherfucker.” 

“Beca!” 

“What! We’re talking about possible same-sex attraction here, Chlo, I feel like me calling God horny is one of the lesser things that would put me in hell,” Beca argued, and Chloe giggled as the zipper to the tent unzipped and Aubrey’s angry mumbling came through. 

“True,” Chloe said quickly, then, holding out her pinky. “Flabbergasties for life?” 

Beca rolled her eyes, taking the pinky in her own. “Flabbergasties for life, bro.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“What’re you doing still up?” 

She heard the words muffled from the edges of her headphones, which weren’t on her head but instead blaring music from around her neck. The voice, of course, was recognizable instantly, and so Beca didn’t bother to look up, instead just biting the edge of her cheek and considering her options. 

Because she definitely wasn’t going to tell Chloe that she was currently surveying the depths of the redhead’s Facebook profile, trying her damnedest to ignore the way she felt anxious the entire time, like someone had grabbed a hold of her stomach and twisted it tighter with every new picture of Chloe smiling into the camera with easy eyes. 

And she wasn’t going to tell Chloe that since the camping trip, there was weird thing where she would catch herself in the moments before she fell asleep - when your mind is just turned off enough to stop censoring things - thinking about Chloe, so, in general, she just stopped pushing herself to go to sleep at all, willing it to come hard and come fast so as to avoid that instant of thought. 

Instead, she shut her computer, glancing at Chloe with a quick smile. “Mixing,” she said, shrugging. 

“Anything good?” Chloe asked, scooting onto the edge of her bed. Beca watched her, moving to get comfortable, as she wore Beca’s sweatshirt over her pajama shorts. 

“Hardly,” Beca said, because it was true, and because as of lately - or maybe, as of her whole life - the music thing wasn’t really being too nice to her. 

“And that thing with Em?” 

“Meh,” Beca shrugged. “It’s still just a thing. Or, like, an idea for a thing. We’ll see.” 

Chloe nodded, her eyes roaming up to the ceiling. Then, “Wait! Oh my God, I forgot to tell you.” 

There was something about an excited Chloe that made Beca - and really, anywhere in the vicinity - capable of breaking all modes of exhaustion in favor of pleasing the redhead with a smile, and this was no different. 

“Okay,” Beca said after Chloe didn’t continue with her thought, “Spit it out, woman.” 

“Our costumes,” Chloe said excitedly. She had moved so she was sitting on her legs, her hands already flailing, “Like some kind of play off of your first year. You know, jeans, the scarf, the vests…As a, like, reminder of everything. Or something like that, I don’t know. I was just thinking, it would be–”

“Brilliant,” Beca said, nodding before getting embarrassed by being caught up in the idea. She shook her head, closing her eyes when she saw Chloe smile proudly back at her. “No, yeah,” she said, “That’s….a good idea. Those vests do you favors.” 

Chloe tilted her head, considering that comment for a moment. “Beca Mitchell did you just give me a backhanded compliment?” 

“What?” Beca said, “Hey now, I was just saying that your Barbaras were…looking good…then…any form of backhandedness would be a result of my painful lack of game.” 

“Oh, so now this is part of a game, hmmm?” Chloe said, grinning. The smirk made Beca more uncomfortable than she cared to admit, but for some reason she leaned into it. 

“Life’s a game,” Beca sighed. She threw her arms up. “We’re all just players.” 

At that, Chloe laughed, throwing a small pillow at Beca, which the other girl caught immediately. “You’re such a nerd,” Chloe giggled, leaving Beca to throw the pillow right back at her. 

“Whatever,” Beca said, “I was only making a statement.” 

“Well if you’re going to talk about flabbergasties,” Chloe said, eyebrow rising, “Then I think you should really talk about those flight attendant outfits.” 

“What ever happened to ‘pilot personnel assistants’ or whatever you and Aubrey were calling it?” Beca said, earning an eye roll from Chloe. She taught her well, it seemed. “But, yeah, like…those were a gift from God.” 

“Right?!” Chloe squealed. She stretched her legs out from under her, scooting further back on the bed. Beca found that despite the nervousness she felt in her stomach, there was also some kind of warmth spreading up her chest. Like excitement, or maybe something akin to the comfort you feel when you’re with a new friend. Like you know you can trust them, and that it feels good, but it’s still fresh. New. 

She couldn’t tell if that feeling was Chloe, or having the freedom to talk about things that she hadn’t really considered pre-Chloe. Things like…

…Yeah. Flabbergasties. 

“We should just wear those,” Beca quipped. Chloe returned the statement with a double eyebrow raise. 

“Yeah, if you want to be tripping over your own two feet, Ms. My Eyes Are Up Here,” Chloe responded. Beca scoffed, rolling her eyes, but the truth was held in her blush. 

“Whatever,” Beca said, “I might not know shit about my life, my future, or my…preferences…but at least I’m confident that–”

“That you’re horny when it comes to the ol’ bazookas?” 

“Do you, like, have a dictionary of euphemisms?!” Beca spat out, and Chloe just laughed. “Ew. That’s…” 

“Crude,” Chloe finished again, but she held up her hands in faux-innocence, “I was just saying what you wanted to say.” 

“Whatever.” 

“I don’t hear a denial,” Chloe argued, but Beca just pursed her lips. Her arms were crossed. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed by your blossoming bi-curiosity.” 

Beca couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face, even if her eyes were aimed carefully at the ceiling. “If I had a dime every time someone told me that…” 

“Hmmm, I’ll bet,” Chloe hummed. She shimmied her way under Beca’s arm, snuggling into her chest. “But Beca?” 

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you dare imply that anyone else makes you question your sexuality. It’s gonna make me jealous.” 

Reflexively, Beca’s hand tightened around Chloe’s waist and she had to actively tell herself to loosen the grip. She took a deep breath, letting it come out like a scoff. “You’re so predatory over your lady friends,” she said, trying to hide the crack in her voice. Chloe chuckled. 

“Just the one,” she said, “But, hey, that’s what gal pals are for.” 

Groaning, Beca let her head rest further into the pillow. Chloe pulled up, looking at her with hair resting over her face. She was grinning, and it was enough to make Beca smirk too. “Why’d you come up here this late anyway?” Beca asked suddenly, poking the girl in the side. 

Chloe moved back down, resting her head again against Beca’s chest. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said simply, “Without my favorite pillows, courtesy of the big BM.” 

“Oh,” Beca squeaked, and she thought, she could just get it over with now. A quick peck to the forehead, and then be on her way. It would be enough to prove Chloe was nothing but skin and bone, no different than anyone else and therefore no more unresistable. Instead, though, she swallowed whatever sound she’d made and tried to regain her composure. “Obvs.” 

Chloe chuckled sleepily, hand trailing lazily over Beca’s hipbone. “Yeah,” she said, yawning, “Obvs.” 


	6. Chapter 6

“Beca!” Chloe clapped in Beca’s face, effectively breaking the trance she was in. Beca blinked owlishly, trying to regain focus on anything but…well…the thing(s) she was currently focusing on. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks but she forcibly push it down, coughing into her hand to cover up. “What do you think?” 

“What do I…” Beca hazarded a glance at the other girls who were in the room, a few of whom were grinning at her knowingly. She shook her head, eyes flashing on Chloe. The redhead was mid-eye-roll. 

“About the routine,” Chloe said. She had pushed her hands up to tug the hair out of her face, and she was huffing in frustration. “You know what?” she said, turning around, “Nevermind. We’re out of time. Bellas, tomorrow’s rehearsals start at 10:00, not 10:15. And if you’re going to show up with your brain completely stuffed into the gutter, then you might as well not show up at all. We’ve got a routine to do.” 

The speech was accompanied by so many finger-wags and hand-slams against the desk, that Beca thought for a fraction of a second she was just watching a tape of Aubrey pre-ICCAs and mid-absolute-freak-out. When she blinked again, though, just to make sure, she saw Chloe, just as sweet as ever, with eyes that were on fire and a jaw that was set with determination. 

And, sure, if she were to ask Stacie - who was currently eying her suspiciously - whether that little zone-out in the middle of rehearsals was noticeable, Stace would’ve responded with an emphatic yes that would turn Beca’s insides into pools of anxiety and humiliation. Which may or may not be exactly why she decided to ask Emily instead. 

Because Emily tended to say whatever Beca wanted her to say. It was really a good friendship they had going. 

“Noooo!” Emily said quickly when Beca asked if she was acting weird during rehearsals. Granted, the taller girl was rushing around the rehearsal space trying to get her things, which resulted in not making an ounce of eye contact with Beca, but she seemed determined enough to pretend everything was fine. “Not one bit. Just normal Beca. Normal, normal, Beca.” 

“That doesn’t say much,” CR cut in, despite Beca’s scowling attempt to scare her away. “Just because Beca’s lady-stare was worse today doesn’t mean she doesn’t always look at Chloe’s…assets…like that.” 

“What?!” Beca squealed. Again, she had to cover up her cracked shock and embarrassment with a cough, which only got worse when CR started laughing knowingly at her. 

“Hey, Becs?” Chloe said from behind, “You’re not getting sick are you?” 

At that, the other Bellas scattered, racing towards the Exits so as to avoid another lecture centering around the importance of self-health and wearing scarves in winter. “These are our instruments,” Chloe would say, using her scarily accurate Aubrey impression, “Don’t eff them up.” 

“Hmm?” Beca spun around quickly, eyebrows raised while her face feigned innocence. “N-n-no,” she stuttered. “Just…ah….got a tickle.” 

Chloe eyed her before sighing before leaning in and reaching around Beca for her sheet music. The other girl held her breath, jumping when Chloe brushed over her arm. 

Which, yeah…Okay, so maybe Beca  _was_ getting sick. The kind of sick that twisted that space in her stomach where butterflies sat, waiting. The kind of sick that made her head hurt because it was pounding with something she didn’t really want to open the door to.  _That_ kind of sick. A special brand that made her look permanently guilty, and left her with things that made her  _feel_ even more guilty. Which was a fun time. 

Chloe looked at Beca when the other girl jumped, eyes squinting. “You’re being weird,” Chloe said, pursing her lips. 

“Nope,” Beca squeaked. “No. Nope. Not weird.” 

“Beca,” Chloe chided, turning back around towards the bag she was packing, “Come on. You were somewhere else completely during all of rehearsal today.” 

“Yeah, but…” Beca shrugged. “We’re both a little panicked about Worlds.” 

“No,” Chloe said, “This is different.” 

Her finger was wagging in Beca’s direction, and Beca wanted to know when exactly the redhead started using that thing as a weapon and how she learned how to use it along with her glare to turn into some strange, Disney princess military general. 

…Admittedly, not a bad idea for Disney, Beca thought, ignoring the way that that image tugged at some strange part of her head that she just…

Maybe she was sick in the way that she was actually disgusting and objectifying her best friend with something not unlike the male gaze? Yeah. That sounded about right. 

“How so?” she finally managed to ask, shrinking under Chloe’s look. The redhead sighed, sitting down on the piano bench and leaning over the keys, the stiffness of her back breaking. 

“I dunno,” she grumbled, her forehead pressed into her arms. “Did I do something?” 

“What?” Beca jumped up. “Chloe,” she started, walking towards the redhead at the piano. “Not a chance. Although that top’s a little unfair.” 

Chloe, who’s face was already contorting into panic, looked down quickly. When she looked back up at Beca, she was grinning, and if Beca could have, she would have cursed her friend. 

“What ever do you mean, Miss Mitchell?” Chloe quipped, earning a punch in the shoulder by Beca. 

“Shut up,” Beca said, “I blame you for drawing my attention towards them.” 

“Well,” Chloe said, sitting up straighter again. There was pride bouncing on the edge of her lips, and Beca wondered briefly what it was she was thinking behind those sparkling eyes. But, of course, they were  _sparkling_ eyes. So she wasn’t much capable of maintaining coherent thought when she looked at them longer than a fraction of a second. “You did mention I would be competing for your cloud of questioning, so…” she sighed, bouncing up, “I thought I would make the competition easier.” 

“This isn’t making it easier,” Beca grumbled, “This is downright cheating.” 

Chloe laughed, leaning forward just enough to give Beca an eyefull. “You don’t even want to know what cheating is, Becs.” 

When she finished, she threw out an easy wink, closing the top of the piano and covering up the keys while Beca tried her best to regain her ability to breathe. “With skills like that, you do know you don’t need to use your flabbergasties, right?” 

Chloe chuckled. The strap on her shoulder was boosted up slightly, and she grunted under the weight of the bag. Beca reached out, taking it for her. 

“Thanks,” she said quickly, “And I know I don’t need these,” she gestured down, “But they help, right?” 

Beca scoffed, looking up and shaking her head. “You’re insufferable,” she grumbled, to which Chloe responded with a laugh. 

“And you’re  _so_ not straight,” Chloe said easily, grinning. “Which is unfortunate, seeing as you can’t even say the word ‘Boob’.” 

“Hey! I can say it,” Beca shot back. They started walking out of the rehearsal space side by side. “I’m using  _your_ term.” 

“And it’s adorable,” Chloe added, “I’m just saying. I feel like you maybe weren’t using the term ‘Barbara’ today in practice.” 

“Wh–” Beca stopped her initial reaction, counting for a few seconds so as to stop herself from admitting to anything embarrassing. “I mean, you’re…crazy.” 

…Yeah, Good save. 

“Totes,” Chloe said, leaning into Beca slightly. “So make me a mad scientist, and experiment?” 

“Ohmygodddd,” Beca groaned, pushing the door open with a clank. “I actually can’t respond to that.” 

Chloe giggled, her hand falling easily on Beca’s shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes?” 

Beca rolled her eyes, grinning, because she felt like that was enough of an answer, but also because she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to say no. 

So, definitely sick. Flabbergastiosis? Mmm, yes, a very serious medical condition. 


	7. Chapter 7

There was a certain point at which it became unbearable. 

Beca thought that what really took it over the edge was the fact that Chloe  _knew_ what she was doing. She could see it - that sparkle in Chloe’s eye that showed her exactly what was going on in that redhead’s mind, and the mischief that swirled around there. She thought, somewhere in the more forgiving parts of her brain, that she was almost grateful for the way that Chloe recognized that change in Beca and didn’t question it. There was no serious talk, or sit-down conversation about what exactly had shifted that caused Beca to get tongue-tied and laser-eyed every time they were together. Instead, Chloe just accepted it with a wink and a grin, and it was  _almost_ a relief for Beca to  _not_ have to explain herself. 

She couldn’t explain herself to…well…herself, so she couldn’t really imagine how that conversation would’ve gone anyway. 

“Beca?” Jesse was waving a hand in front of Beca’s face, forcing her out of her haze and back into the coffee shop where they were stationed for an afternoon of homework. “Yeesh, thought I lost you there for a sec.” 

“Oh no,” Beca grumbled, her voice maintaining the signature, sarcastic lowness that she reached when she was around him. He took it, grinning, and dropped his pencil in a way that only meant trouble. 

“What were you thinkin’ about, Becaw,” he said, and Beca, in that moment, hated the way his lips turned up at the edges like the Grinch on Christmas Eve. She picked mindlessly at the muffin sitting on the table. 

“Nothin’,” she said, “Nothing, like, important anyway.” 

“Yeah?” Jesse asked, and his smile was ever-growing. It made Beca feel itchy. 

“Yeah,” she reaffirmed, “Stop, like, staring at me like that.” 

“I’m not staring at you like anything,” he said, his hands raised in surrender as his eyes dropped into his lap. “You on the other hand….”

“Me?” 

His smile returned in no time as he shot a thumb over to the waitress pouring coffee across the store. “You’re objectifying the help.” 

Beca reached out, slapping Jesse on the arm. “Don’t call her that,” she said quickly, and then scowled at the way he was giggling like a school boy. “And no I wasn’t.” 

“You literally had the look of a construction worker, Becs,” he argued, which earned another scowl. “And I’m not hearing any denials….”

“Yeah, ‘cuz,” Beca stopped, swallowing quickly, “Like, that’s so ridiculous I don’t have to deny it. Dude.” 

“Psssh,” he breathed out slowly, shaking his head. “Whatever. It doesn’t bother me. You always did have a wandering eye.” 

“I dated you faithfully for three years,” she said, but he shrugged. 

“Wandering eyes and wandering hands are two different things,” he said, earning a wince from Beca while he just laughed. “Listen, it’s chill. Guys, girls. Whatever you like.” 

“I’m not…that’s not even…” Beca shook her head, picking up her notebooks and slipping them into her bag. “I’m going back home. You staying here?” 

“Yeah,” he said, not at all surprised by her sudden exit. “Try not to fall on your own drool on the way out.” 

There were few things that Beca hated more than the recent way that Chloe’s winks made her feel, and one of those things was the sickening acknowledgement that Jesse Swanson was right about something. Particularly, about her current state of imitating the male gaze, which, really, she couldn’t  _stop_ doing, and…

Frankly, she just felt ridiculous. She liked women. Not, like… _liked_ women, but, obviously, enjoyed their company and respected them and treated them with as much dignity as, say, she treated her laptop. Which was really saying something. So this recent habit of scanning them with her eyes, a quick up-down and analysis for something that she wasn’t even sure she was looking for tended to leave a bad feeling in her mouth. And a cage of butterflies in her stomach. 

“You’re home early,” Chloe said from the couch when Beca walked through the door, and the brunette had to contain her groan at the other girl’s voice. Chloe Beale was really not someone her mind and body could deal with seeing right now. 

“Cut the study sesh short,” she grumbled. Chloe stood up at the tone of the other girl’s voice, crossing her arms and tilting her head. 

“Jesse being Jesse again?” 

Beca breathed out, her cheeks puffing out for a moment. “Just, like, things…” she waved her hand around her head distractedly, “Figuring shit out.” 

Which was, actually, the biggest understatement of the century. 

“Anything I can help with?” Chloe asked, skirting around the couch to be face to face with Beca. 

“No you…” Beca paused, backing up slightly, “You’ve helped enough.” 

Which was, actually, the  _second_ biggest understatement of the century. 

Chloe frowned, concerned, but decided everything was fine after a quick once-over and shrugged. She hummed and bounced to turn around, headed towards the kitchen. 

“I’m worried about you, you know,” Chloe started, and Beca felt something akin to a boulder fall down her stomach. 

“Why is that?” 

“Because,” Chloe said, pulling a juice bottle out of the fridge. “You’re running around all the time. With the internship and the Bellas and…It’s really, like, taking a toll.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Beca grumbled, and Chloe pouted at her. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, reaching up to pull a strand of hair out of Beca’s face. “You seem out of it.” 

“Right,” Beca breathed out, not even bothering to deny it. Chloe tutted, her hand still resting on Beca’s cheek. 

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing at the barstool. Without question, Beca followed, appreciating how satisfied it made Chloe. “Good. Now, do you have a bathing suit?” 

“What?” 

“Do,” she started slowly, “You. Have. A. Bathing. Suit.” 

“Why would I…Why do yo–” 

“Answer the question!” Chloe said quickly, and Beca jumped, shrugging. 

“I’ve got my racing suit from back home, but it’s n–”

“Nope,” Chloe said quickly, “Nope nope nope. That’s just not gonna do.” 

“Do for what?” Beca asked hesitantly, her eyes fluttering closed as she craned her head to the ceiling. Chloe’s hands were on her shoulders then, enough to make her tense up, and she straightened under the touch before relaxing into it. 

“Do for showing off those really unfairly nice flabbergasties this weekend,” she said. Beca could  _hear_ her grin. She felt electric, even though she was blushing profusely and thought that Chloe could feel it beneath her massaging fingers. 

“Why,” Beca said, swallowing the sound that was about to come out of her mouth, “Am I showing off my flabbergasties?” 

“Because,” Chloe said simply. “I want to see them, and I’m not in the habit of denying myself what I want.” 

Beca froze, sure that she’d lost both the ability to swallow and the ability to breathe, and the laugh that was in her ear didn’t help one bit. She felt like she was standing inside of a giant bell, feeling it shake around her. 

“And,” Chloe clarified, “Because I’ve got a night planned. Which involves swimming. Stress-reduction is important for these guys,” she stopped her massage to point to her throat, and act that had grown familiar during the node time of her life. 

“A night…” Beca said slowly, and Chloe practically chirped. 

“Yes-sir-ee-bob,” she said, clapping lightly. “Stace has rehearsals handled, Emily’s not available to record, and I’ve planned everything out to a T.” 

“Right,” Beca said, her voice monotone. What should’ve scared Chloe only made her chuckle harder. 

“Beca,” she said knowingly, that mischievous smirk rising up on her lips, “Lady-loving is a great stress-reliever, and I want to build up to that.” 

“Lady-loving?” Beca spat sharply, which made Chloe erupt in laughter. 

“Sorry!” she said, holding her hands up though there were tears in her eyes. “You’re too easy!” 

“Jesus, Chlo,” Beca said quickly, her hand on her chest. “But seriously…lady-loving?” 

“S’better than clambake,” Chloe said, shrugging before taking another sip of juice. Beca winced, already pulled out of her chair and onto the ground, but audibly retching at the euphemism. 

“I do  _not_ understand where you get these,” Beca said, beginning to walk out of the room.

“Just imagine dirty talk with me!” Chloe shouted over the other girl’s shoulder, chuckling when Beca responded with a middle finger up in the air. “And don’t forget,” she continued, “Bathing suit for my flabbergastie love, please and thank!” 


	8. Chapter 8

So…nervous didn’t even really begin to cover the way Beca was feeling, tucked into her knees in the front seat of Chloe’s car. It was more like she thought that this was an accurate representation of what it felt like to die. Or have a child. Or some combination of both that also involved one of those horror movie shower scenes. 

Only, that couldn’t be completely accurate, because all of those feelings were painful in some way, and this was…a scary kind of  _un_ painful. Sure, she was dizzy, and her mouth was dry, and she thought that if she never ate again, she would be totally okay with that, but at the same time, she felt a rush. There’s a uniquely strengthening aspect of being able to feel your heartbeat in your chest. 

“Calm down,” Chloe said from next to Beca, putting a hand on the other girl’s knee and seeing the way Beca jumped at the contact. She pulled away quickly, giggling. “Becs, it’s just me.” 

Beca swallow, trying to collect her words in a way that was natural. “Right,” she breathed, “Yeah, no. I don’t think this suit fits me, though.” 

Chloe eyed her, even though the red and yellow polka-dot suit was invisible under the t-shirt that Beca was wearing. The way her gaze lingered made Beca hug her knees closer. “You’ve got bigger flabbergasties,” Chloe sighed, shrugging, “But we had limited time. And I don’t mind catching an eye-ful.” 

“Okay,” Beca said quickly, her feet slamming into the ground as she sat up straight. “No more, like, comments like that.” 

Chloe bit back a grin. Reaching out, she turned the music down. The silence was staticky. “Why not?” 

“Just,” Beca stopped, shaking her head, “It’s…distracting.” 

Chloe stuck out her lower lip, chuckling at Beca before reaching out and tapping her cheek three times. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” 

“Yeah,” Beca mumbled, “You’ve told me.” 

“Well, it’s a new side of you,” Chloe said simply, her eyes focused on the road again. “I like it.” 

The overwhelming nature of the urge to blurt “ _I like you”_ just then made Beca do a double-take. There were times, very rarely, when she acquired the ability to censor her mouth and the things it wanted to say without permission. She worried greatly about the inevitability of alcohol being involved tonight, and how that would undoubtedly reduce the filter that was barely there as it was. She sighed, trying not to jump when Chloe put her hand on her knee again. 

“Don’t be worried about the suit,” Chloe said, squeezing her knee, “You’re, like….crazy beautiful.” 

Damnit, if Beca’s urge to word-blurt wasn’t strong already, she had to  _literally_ bit her lip to keep herself from saying anything that would cause extreme amounts of damage. After an amount of eye contact that was uncomfortable, Beca clapped, moving her gaze to the road. “What’s on the itinerary?”

Chloe regained focus and squealed, clapping. “Right! Beca and Chloe Take the Night Off, Part One,” she said, pointing to the road sign in front of them. 

“Historic River Basin?” Beca read out, unimpressed. 

“Do not question me,” Chloe said sternly, turning to the side of the road and slowing down. “Whatever weird panic you’ve got going on, ends tonight.” 

Beca took a breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt. While it didn’t sound quite like a threat, there was a level of determination in Chloe’s words that was unreadable and all too capable of turning Beca burning hot. 

“Right, yeah,” she started, feeling nauseous about the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “Speaking of that. I wanted to ta–” 

Her voice cut out out of it’s own accord, completely without Beca’s permission. Because once she got out of the car, she turned to Chloe to find that the redhead had already rid herself of the clothes she wore on top of her bathing suit, and she was currently stretching on the edge of the small cliff jutting out over the water. The way the sun was setting put a pink glow on Chloe’s skin, revealing freckles that Beca loved to notice when their summer’s had ended and they spent time sitting on the front porch of the house reviewing the past three months’ activities. 

And, sure, there were aspects of this current sight that were rather well defined by the clothing choices and lighting scenarios and overall rigorous work-out routine. Aspects that made Beca’s mouth dry, catching the edges of her breath and taking them away completely. But more than that - more than all that - was the way her eyes were sparkling, mixed with pink and yellow and green to culminate in one stunning blue, so stark against the navy of the water beneath them. 

“What was that?” Chloe asked, looking over her shoulder. Her hair was falling down in cascading curls, and though Beca knew that she knew exactly what she was doing, there was still an innocence to Chloe’s face that was endearing. 

“N-nnn,” Beca managed, shaking her head vigorously. She coughed once, starting to unbutton her shorts while diverting her eyes. “Nothing,” she said much quieter, thinking Chloe might have just only heard it. 

“Get your small, little butt over here,” Chloe complained halfway through Beca’s undressing process, which made Beca grunt instinctively. 

“S’not small,” she grumbled, trying to fight the urge to cover her pale waist as she approached Chloe. There was a vulnerability in the act, and she felt that Chloe knew this, because while she kept her eyes trained on the brunette, it never once felt judging. 

If Beca was allowing herself to think these things, she would’ve maybe described it as admiring. Granted, the squeal that Chloe let it helped that assumption. 

“You look  _so hot_ ,” Chloe nearly screamed, grabbing Beca’s hands and pulling them together excitedly. “Oh my god, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.” 

“Shut up,” Beca muttered. She was afraid to look Chloe in the eyes, but with their proximity, looking any closer would result in…well…looking in other places, particularly places that were very near to her face and…

She preferred being safe rather than sorry. 

Still, her breath was stuttered when Chloe ran a featherlight touch up her arm. 

“I’m not kidding,” she said softly, winking. There was a sincerity to her voice that Beca  _had_ to believe, if not because it was capable of making her blush. She looked down, which…yeah, as mentioned, was a bad idea, therefore causing her to turn away and towards the water beneath them. 

“We’re jumping in that?” she asked, meeting Chloe’s eyes again. Their hands were still intertwined. Chloe nodded once, easily. 

“Stress relief attempt number one is through adrenaline,” Chloe said. 

“Yeah that makes sense,” Beca grumbled with sarcasm, “Because you can’t really be stressed if you’re dead.” 

Chloe tutted, walking up behind Beca and putting a hand on her bare back. Beca was more than a little ashamed of the squeak she let out as a result. 

“You’re being dramatic,” she drawled, the hand there lingering. “Just…come on. On the count of three. I’ll go when you go.” 

To be fair, Chloe could have said that about absolutely anything, and Beca would have followed without complaint. That’s how they were. That’s how they always would be. So Beca took a shaky breath and nodded, looking briefly at the water before closing her eyes. 

“One,” she heard Chloe say from behind her. 

“Two,” she grumbled, her voice a nervous groan. Chloe chuckled, the hand on her back squeezing once before letting go. The second hung in the air heavily, passing by in the sounds of the cicadas around them. Then, a small squeak as Chloe opened her mouth, followed by a “Three!” that was more of a scream than a number, and Beca’s entire world crashed around her. 

Her eyes were closed, but she could  _feel_ herself falling through air, further and further down, and Chloe was right. There was something about actively fighting gravity that felt freeing. As she let out a scream, she thought, briefly, that she’d felt this feeling before. One thousand and one times. 

It was silly, really, how she hadn’t realized it until recently. With flabbergasties and lady gardens and talk of experimentation, she thought it was all kind of a way of making her open her eyes mid-fall. Which made sense, really, because it meant that once she realized she was falling, she couldn’t stop herself from hitting the water. 

So, yeah, the metaphor here was glaring, and coincidental in all it’s symbolism, but Beca didn’t exactly have the time for hating herself for being corny like that, due to the fact that she, generally, falling from the sky. 

Chloe’s giggle followed her the whole way down, peaking out over the trees and through the sky until suddenly everything was just solid. Bubbles and blue and blackness, cemented around her. Silence, so still that not even her brain could move. She opened her eyes only then - only when she knew she was safe - and  _saw_ what the silence looked like. She sat in it, stopping only when Chloe poked her on the side, making her jump for the surface and gasp for breath. 

“I thought you died, you weirdo with a strange lung capacity,” Chloe squealed when she hit the surface of the water, breaking the silence immediately. Beca shrugged, still gasping. 

“Sorry,” she breathed, but Chloe had already started grinning at her. “What?” 

“Um,” Chloe started, her eyes focused at the sky now, “Your…Barbaras.” 

Beca looked down quickly, noticing that her swimsuit had completely rearranged itself in the process of the fall. Swearing, she fixed it, ignoring the blush that was rising up her stomach and neck - which was all really  _too_ pale in this water. 

“Sorry,” she repeated, this time more sheepishly. Chloe smiled, looking back at Beca when she knew it was safe. 

“S’okay,” she said quietly, swimming towards Beca. She clamped her arms on Beca’s forearms, pushing her with a smile the few meters it took to reach a small shelf created by rock. Beca ungracefully slammed into it, grunting, but Chloe ignored it, still holding onto Beca’s arms. “I’m not complaining about it, by the way.” 

Beca rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I think you’re worse than Stacie.” 

Chloe chuckled, considering this, before reaching one hand from Beca’s arm to the rock behind her. “I hardly ever act on my talk, though,” she said, her voice a little lower than usual. Beca gulped, her eyes flitting to Chloe’s lips for only a second. 

“You should–” Beca started, raising her chin slightly, “You should maybe think about it. Acting on what you say, and stuff.” 

“Yeah?” Chloe asked with an eyebrow raised. Beca breathed, feeling the way it bounced off of Chloe’s lips back onto her own. She was now, unabashedly, staring at Chloe’s lips. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed involuntarily. Chloe’s lips touched lightly over Beca’s - just a breath away - and she breathed in. 

“Stress relief,” Chloe started, taking a moment to push herself closer, “Attempt number two.” 

“Shut up,” Beca said, her voice a rumble. Her hands had somehow moved to Chloe’s back. “You’re the stress. This doesn’t help that.” 

“I can,” Chloe paused, moving back ever so slightly, “Stop.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Beca said, “Just dear God put me out of my misery.” 

Chloe did as Beca said, possibly a first for those two, but that wasn’t entirely what was on Beca’s mind when Chloe’s lips pressed against hers, finally cementing her onto the rock she was leaning up against as the water lapped around them. 

Chloe broke away suddenly, laughing. 

“Okay, that’s  _so_ not the response one would want,” Beca said, gasping for breath and trying to maintain some kind of control on her heartbeat. Chloe reaching up, twirling a wet strand of Beca’s hair around her finger. 

“It was the flabbergasties that did the trick, wasn’t it?” 

And whether she was talking about her own baggage, the beginning of this whole situation altogether, or this particular night with this particular lack of clothes, Beca didn’t much care. Smiling, she bit her own lip, which now tasted like Chloe’s. 

Then, she nodded, but only before taking Chloe’s face back in her hands again. 


	9. Chapter 9

They managed to move back up to the rock that they jumped off, though not after a hike that consisted of Beca falling twice and questioning the poisonous…ness of a few patches of leaves with hesitation. 

Oh, and an instance of utter humiliation wherein a bee flew with the very obvious intention of ramming right into Beca’s face, resulting in the woman screaming and jumping behind Chloe for protection. While the redhead deemed it “Totes adorbs”, Beca would fight her use of those two adjectives until her last breath. 

Regardless, as the night descended further on the woods just off the edge of the highway they were on, Beca and Chloe sat on the rock overlooking the river basin in utter silence. 

There was a comfort within it that Beca couldn’t exactly have predicted. While the tension she’d been feeling had been relieved, it wasn’t like one kiss could pop an entire balloon. No. There was an itchiness stretching between their occasional smirks and winks and sideways glances. And the way Beca acted when faced with that itchiness was by mentally blacking out and talking nonsense to fill the air. Which, naturally, is what she chose to do now. 

“Um,” she started, almost jumping at the way Chloe immediately craned her head towards her, curious. “I don’t, like….I don’t know what that was. Down there.” 

Chloe sighed, the sound completely unreadable, before she leaned back, lying down on the rock. Watching, Beca noticed how gravity pushed Chloe’s bare stomach down more, making her hip bones jut out and revealing a hint of a tattoo on the edge of one. 

“What is  _that_?” Beca asked, her voice rising to a squeak. Chloe looked worriedly at her, furrowing her eyebrows before following her gaze to her hip bone. 

“You’re no strangers to tattoos, Becs,” she tutted, lowering her head once more. 

“No but,” Beca stopped herself, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. “I didn’t know you had that.” 

“Hmmm, you don’t know a lot of things,” Chloe commented, earning a slap from the other girl. “Ow! Okay! I was just saying. You don’t know what a kiss is. You don’t know what a tattoo is….”

“I  _know_ what a kiss is,” Beca argued. She wanted, more than anything, to wipe the grin off of Chloe’s face. 

“Well you were just in the middle of telling me that you didn’t,” Chloe commented. 

“Shut up. I was….” Beca sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever, nevermind. This can’t be the last phase.” 

“Oh it’s not,” Chloe breathed easily. Her eyes had flitted shut. “Patience, Beca. We’ll get there.” 

Grunting, Beca spun around, throwing her legs out from beneath her so that she could lie down beside Chloe. She turned her head slightly, outlining Chloe’s profile with her eyes. “You’re checking me out,” Chloe hummed, not once opening her eyes. Beca choked on all of her thoughts. 

“I…I am  _not,”_ she said hurriedly, earning a laugh from Chloe. Taking a breath, she tried to quell her defensive tendencies. “It’s not my fault you’re lying there on display, Chlo.” 

“Hmmm,” Chloe said, wiggling her body, “It’s fine by me. I mean, I’m proud of all of this.” 

The quote threw her back through the years, to when she stood, as a freshman, across from a very naked Chloe. 

She tried, over time, to forget that that even happened. It made it hard when, in the middle of rehearsals, you suddenly got a very graphic image of a nude redhead in her periphery. It was easier, then, to wipe the entire scene from memory. Especially through the constant sleepovers and cuddle sessions that were enforced by the Bella captain. Still, the image came back. Time and time again, when Beca wasn’t expecting it, she closed her eyes and there Chloe was with a grin on her face and a wink in her eyes. It always felt wrong. Dirty, despite the irony of them being in the shower. But here she was again, thrown back into that moment. 

Only this time, her lips tingled with the taste of Chloe still on them. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Chloe asked, opening her eyes to look at Beca. There was the mischievous look again, and Beca stomach dropped to her knees. Lately, that look brought absolutely nothing but trouble. 

She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “Nah,” was all she gave by way of response. 

“Hey, Beca?” Chloe said, sitting up suddenly and taking the brunette’s hands in her own. “Just admit it.” 

“Admit what?” 

“You,” Chloe said, her head bobbing to her words, “Want a piece of the Chlo-worm.” 

“Ohmygod,” Beca shook her head furiously, backing up from Chloe with her nose wrinkled. “No. No. There are a million other nicknames you could have, that one is  _so_ not sexy. No. God.” 

Chloe giggled, enjoy the discomfort thoroughly. “Oh, a million other nicknames?” 

“That are better that Chlo-worm? Yeah.” 

“Care to share with the class?” Chloe asked, grinning. Beca sighed, then, acutely aware of the trap she’d fallen into. 

“Flabbergastie queen doesn’t suffice?” Beca tried, her voice rising, and Chloe laughed. 

“Although I’d like to think after particular events of today,” Chloe grinned more, “And the way you’re blushing right now, that nickname is accurate…I will say I don’t see how it’s any…better.” 

“Lady gardener?” 

“Considering I don’t work at a waxing salon,” Chloe countered, “Nope.” 

“Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson is already taken,” Beca considered jokingly, tapping a finger against her chin. Triple B? Bodacious, burgundy Bella.” 

“Okay, burgundy is  _not_ what this shade is,” Chloe said, gesturing to her hair. “But you’re getting close.” 

Ironically, so was Chloe. Physically, that is. The excitement of their game pushed her to lean towards Beca, who was still lying on the ground, so that Beca still had to look up to see her but was given  _quite_ the angle. 

“Fire Engine Red,” Beca tried, which earned a raise of the eyebrow from Chloe. 

“I like it,” she said, “We’ll have to workshop some more. The Mississippi Finger Licker is a classic.” 

“You’re not even…” Beca stopped, shaking her head, “You’re not even from Mississippi.” 

Chloe giggled, tracing her hand up Beca’s bare waist. “I know that,” she said, “But it’s got a ring to it.” 

“You’re….” Beca sighed, “You’re ridiculous.” 

“You’re repeating yourself,” Chloe pointed out, moving so that she was inches from Beca’s face. “Flustered?” 

Beca breathed in slowly, smiling too. “More like….flabbergasted?” 

Chloe laughed. “Touche,” she said, nodding. “You’re almost as ridiculous as Chloe Casanova.” 

Beca shook her head, though her range of motion was limited due to Chloe’s proximity. “Too porn name-y.” 

Only a small space existed between Beca’s lips and Chloe’s, and Beca couldn’t control her gaze. “We’ll work on it,” she said breathily. “Maybe I can….give you some inspiration?” 

“That would be…umm…” Beca had lost the ability to form sentences, focused as she was on the lips that were near hers and the hand lying on her ribcage, burning a mark there. “Great. Good. I mean…that would be nice.”

Chloe laughed, and Beca could feel it vibrate against her own mouth. “Great,” she said, “Good. I mean…nice.” 

Beca was about to slap Chloe again, just enough “in control” to manage it, but Chloe silenced her with another kiss, which, Beca was learning, was not a bad way to lose an argument. 


	10. Chapter 10

If Beca’s senses weren’t on high alert, she wouldn’t have recognized Chloe creeping up behind her, one breath pressed forward in anticipation of what was supposed to be a surprise attack. 

But, while Beca’s senses were on high alert, the adrenaline coursing through her veins also, somehow, slowed down her reflexes just enough so that when Chloe jumped, grabbing Beca’s hips and letting out a “boo!”, Beca lept and cursed her way through the fumbling interaction until she was turned around and facing a Chloe whose forehead was now pressed against hers. 

“Scared ya,” she breathed out excitedly. In the tent behind the stage, there was hardly a moment for silence. Groups around them were rehearsing their own parts or warming up, and the booming bass from the stage acted like a leftover background noise. Not to mention the fact that Amy and Aubrey were back at their pre-performance ritual of hopping down each other’s throats for over-stepping “personal space”. Amy, as always, needed it to practice her mermaid dancing. “It soothes me,” she would always say. Aubrey needed it for…well, whatever Aubrey did prior to a performance. Beca always thought she drank the blood of young and talented youth or something as intense to prepare for going on stage, but Chloe had assured her time and time again that that wasn’t true (probably). Still, when Chloe whispered, Beca could hear every syllable with such clarity she thought the redhead had acquired some supernatural ability to turn the volume of her surroundings to mute. 

She then realized that it was less a superpower and more just Chloe’s eyes, which were boring into Beca’s. She was getting used to it, admittedly, but the intensity behind the gaze still made her tumble backwards for a few seconds. Chloe claimed it was cute when Beca, flustered and still, after weeks of this, uncertain, stuttered her way through these interactions. 

Beca, personally, didn’t know how much more her heart could handle. 

Chloe’d been putting it to the test in more ways than one as of late. 

“You did not,” Beca breathed uneasily, her hands reaching for Chloe’s hips. Chloe ran a finger over the collar of Beca’s vest, humming thoughtfully. Nudging her cheek with her nose, Beca pulled Chloe’s attention back. “Can I help you?” 

“I think now’s the best time to tell you the only reason I wanted you in the Bellas was for the costumes,” Chloe said with a grin. “They accentuate your best features.” 

Beca rolled her eyes. “We’re about to go on stage in front of the entire world to stabilize our position in the acapella universe, and all you can think about is my Barbaras.” She stopped when she saw Chloe biting her lip to keep from laughing. “God, that’s the worst thing I’ll ever say.” 

“I can probably make you say worse,” Chloe said offhandedly. 

If there was one thing Beca wasn’t sure she was used to, it was the way Chloe managed to make her blush profusely without even considering it. She knew the power the was held inside her suggestive words - it was how they got here in the first place, after all - but now, because Beca knew somewhere in the recesses of her brain that she was  _allowed_ to be flustered by them, her subconscious seemed bent on giving Chloe exactly the satisfaction she expected from such side comments. 

“Acapella nerd,” Beca said, “Flabbergastie enthusiast….Who knows what else you’ll make me into, Beale.” 

“I’m going with wife, one day,” Chloe hummed jokingly, pulling Beca closer by the collar she was fondling. “But I’ll settle for champion of Worlds, too.” 

“Here I was hoping you’d say ‘I’m not making you into anything, you’re perfect the way you are’.” 

“I’m corny, Becs, but I’m not  _that_ corny,” Chloe said, smiling. Beca reached up, touching the corner of the redhead’s lip. She hated how clammy her hands were - how every part of her body was trying it’s very best to fight those backstage nerves, except for the parts that Chloe was touching. She wanted to ask Chloe to talk all the way through to their performance, because it was only when she was talking that the rest of the world - and Beca’s thoughts - seemed to quiet down. 

But even she knew not to give that kind of power to the redhead. 

“I like your smile,” Beca said quietly, watching the way Chloe’s grin spread at her comment. “No euphemisms needed.” 

Chloe’s hand brushed up her collar now, over to her shoulder, where she rested her arm and drew lazy circles on the girl’s neck. “I kinda like your everything,” she said in return. “But I will say that, for your sake, you shouldn’t wear those jeans again. Because if you thought my euphemisms for flabbergastes and lady gardens were bad, you should hear the ones I have for the junk in your trunk.”

Beca winced, backing up slightly. “I really thought you’d be better at dirty talk.” 

“Oh, you don’t think I’m good?” Chloe grinned, and Beca realized immediately the mistake she made. She detached herself from the redhead with a sigh, feeling the anxiety making it’s way back into her blood. 

“We’re not doing this here,” she said, more to herself than to her, “And now. We have…a thing…” 

“Worlds,” Chloe said with a reassuring nod. She still had a sparkle in her eye, though, and Beca tried her best to pretend like it wasn’t there. 

“Yeah, that.” 

“I’m telling you,” Chloe said, closing the distance between them again. “It’s your fault.” 

“You’re objectifying me,” Beca commented under her breath, relishing in the feeling of Chloe chuckling next to her. 

“Oi! Gal pals, get your eyes away from each other’s bosoms long enough to sing, eh?” 

Beca backed up at the sound of Amy behind them, walking quickly to the stage. Behind her, Stacie came, slapping Beca’s ass once with a wink and a wave towards Chloe without saying much more. Emily brought up the end of the line, muttering to Beca as if in explanation, “We’re up. Like…now.” 

“Right,” Beca said. There was a magnet pulling her to Chloe that she didn’t want to break apart from - a spell that kept her voice from trembling and her body from shaking too much. But Chloe broke away first, with a clap of her hands and a nod towards the Bellas standing near the stage. 

“Okay, aca-bitches, let’s show them how it’s done!” 

The rest of the Bellas cheered, arms around encircling each other for their last-minute pre-performance ritual. Emily stood next to her mom, grinning, while Aubrey took helm between Amy and Stacie, her smile wider than Beca had ever seen it through the year she worked with her. Chloe, of course, was tucked into Beca’s side, swaying with the wave of the other women her arm keeping Beca as grounded as she could manage throughout the cheer. When they broke apart, clapping and whooping, Chloe held the hem of Beca’s shirt, pulling her towards her for an extra moment. 

Beca spun around to face Chloe, hands immediately finding purchase on the redhead’s cheeks. “Is it super cheesy if I say I already won?” Chloe asked, her eyes flitting momentarily to Beca’s lips. 

“You first hit on me by calling my boobs flabbergasties, Chlo,” Beca said. 

“Okay, that was  _so_ not the first time, but okay,” Chloe conceded. She leaned in, pressing her lips against Beca’s and pulling her closer by tugging lightly at her hair. When they pulled away, Beca was smiling. 

“Shit,” she said, and Chloe, who was shooting a hurried look at the Bellas who were filing onto the stage, looked quickly at Beca with furrowed eyebrows of concern. “I just kinda realized we missed a great opportunity.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Bellas,” Beca said, as if that explained everything. Her hand was in Chloe’s, and they were already headed up the few steps that led to the stage. The audience’s applause was really more of a roar at this point, and with the sun having already set, the lights were hot against their faces. Chloe stopped just long enough to address Beca. 

“Is now the best time to be cryptic?”

“Bellas,” Beca said again, her smile wide. “For a euphemism! We can call them Bellas!” 

“Oh my God,” Chloe whined. She took her place beside Beca for the opening, refusing to let go of the other girl’s hand until the first hand motions were made. “You are  _such_  a nerd.” 

She leaned towards Beca, then, just as the lights turned on on Beca’s face, one singular spotlight to signal the beginning of their song. “And I kinda sorta love it a lot.” 

Beca breathed out a smile, shaking her head in response before lifting her hand from Chloe’s, wiping it on the side of her jeans, and starting with a singular clap, knowing that when she looked up to the crowd, or when she started to sing, or when the choreography picked up, she’d still know where exactly Chloe was on stage. 

Next to her. Without a doubt. 

And, yeah, while now wasn’t the right time to be thinking this, she did realize she forgot to say something to Chloe as the hand motions picked up and she had to face the redhead to high five her. 

The costumes were, very clearly, not just flattering on Beca. Because Chloe’s flabbergasties were out of this world, too. 

(Some might say life-changing, actually. “Some” being a Ms. Beca Mitchell, a very much no longer sexually confused, very much no longer single lady who was standing in front of the entire world singing acapella because one very naked pair of flabbergasties - with a face, of course, and a very nice voice, and a lot of other redeeming feautres - crashed into her shower one night.)


End file.
